


Idk what to name this

by arachnope



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Blood Kink, Bottom Tom, Light Angst, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, S&M, Sadism, Self-Indulgent, Tags May Change, tomco - Freeform, top Marco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnope/pseuds/arachnope
Summary: Tom is a masochist and feels like he deserves pain... But he gets off on said pain, too. :^)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is pretty dialogue-heavy so uh... Sorry if its too much.  
> Also this is mostly a self-indulgent fic but I figured I'd share it here anyway.  
> Hopefully other people enjoy it as well...?

"Hey, um... Marco?" Star called out from her room.

"... Yeah? What is it?"

"Uh... It's Tom."

"Ugh... What does he want?"

"He says he wants to talk to you."

"..."

\---

"What is it, Tom?" Marco asked with an unamused expression, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Tom squirmed. "Well... I... need to talk to you..."

Marco squinted. "Well...? What is it? I'm right here. Spit it out." He replied impatiently.

"... Privately." He mumbled, averting his gaze away from the mirror-screen, almost as if he could feel their burning glares.

Marco scoffed. "...Really? You're not just gonna kidnap me like last time, are you?"

Tom tensed and sputtered. "N-no! I promise! I... I just want to talk..." He put a hand to his forehead, roughing up his hair. Marco could see that he was obviously struggling with his words.

He sighed, "... Fine. I'll come over. Just don't try anything." Marco’s voice was understanding, yet firm.

"R-really? Thank you so much, Marco." He exclaimed, surprised by the nonchalant answer.

"Uh-huh... It'll be a few minutes, though..." He replied, beginning to walk away from the mirror.

"That's fine! ... Oh! Uh... Do you need a ride?" Tom offered out of courtesy.

"Uhm... No thanks. I'll just use these." He stylishly flipped his personalized dimensional scissors in his hand before putting them away in his pocket.

"Oh-okay. Well, see you in a bit, then."

"Bye, Tom."

"Bye, Marco..."

Marco smiled and ended the call.

\---

Tom was in his room, pacing back and forth, becoming more and more anxious by the second. "...Fuck!" He hissed under his breath and kicked away a pillow. His room was utterly trashed; papers, clothes and various other items were strewn about as if a violent fight had happened. Tom was high-strung and burning up, his skin emitting an aura of heat like a hot pavement on a summer day. If Star was there she would probably attempt to fry an egg on him... But that's besides the point. He was pissed. Not at Marco or anyone in particular, just... Himself. 

He paced a bit before plopping down on his bed and grumbling a quiet, ‘Dammit…’. Hoping to relieve some of the tension from his face, he rubbed his forehead while massaging around his eyes and horns. He seriously needed to apologize to him... For everything. Guilt was eating him to the bone and it felt horrible. He couldn't stand it. He hopped off his bed and began to clean his room, aggressively tossing any nearby clothing into a corner. Suddenly, a pair of scissors ripped through the air, opening up a portal in his room.

"Uh... Wow." Upon entering, Marco's voice broke the heavy silence, shocked at the mess inside. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Tom quickly turned around to make an excuse. "I-it's not usually this messy... I-", He stuttered and gestured to the mess with a clothing article, but quickly tossed it away when he realized it was a pair of dirty boxers. "S-Sorry. Haha..." He looked away, laughing awkwardly before he began picking up more stuff lying around his room.

Marco's eyes explored Tom's bedroom before finally landing on the half-demon. "Are... You okay, dude? You seem upset..." Marco asked in a concerned tone, walking closer to him.

Suddenly, Tom snapped. "Oh, I'm -perfectly- fine!" He said sarcastically and kicked another garment across his room. Marco just stood there silently and watched him from a distance, not wanting to agitate him any further.

"Marco... I'm... Sorry." He sighed and sat back down on his bed, covering his face with his hands. "I'm just sorry..."

Marco cocked his head and squinted. "So... Is that it? Is there anything else you wanted to say?" He walked closer, trying to read what Tom was so upset about.

Tom moved his palms away from his face and to his sides, grabbing the bed sheets between his fingers. He contemplated if he should even ask. "No... Wait- I meant, yes! I... actually wanted to ask you for a favor..." He looked off to the side, avoiding Marco's eyes.

"Well... What is it?" He wondered reluctantly before speaking up, keeping any wild guesses he had to himself.

"It... It's stupid... " Tom internally winced at the thought of saying what he -actually- wanted. "Really, fucking stupid... And pretty immature..." He added with a slight laugh and rubbed his head.

Marco grabbed a nearby chair and sat down, P.H.D. style. He was prepared to be blown away by his stupidity. "Go on..."

"I..." He stuttered and shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands. "I want to fight you... Like, fair and square... But... No magic or anything. Just fists... Hand to hand combat, if you will...?"

Marco tilted his head, intrigued by the offer. "Okay...?"

He turned away from Marco's scrutinizing gaze and added, "It's not like a real fight... It's just... A friendly competition? A spar, perhaps...? For fun?" He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Marco shifted in his chair, thinking to himself before replying. "I... I guess? Sure? I wouldn't mind fighting you... As long as it's fair." He sat up a little more as he emphasized the last bit.

Tom sat up a little taller in response and nodded his head. "Oh, Of course! How about... Right now?" He eagerly stood up with a smirk, catching Marco off guard.

His shoulders dropped. "Wait... You mean right here? Right now?" His eyes widened, looking up at the demon.

"Yeah! Right here, right now..." He stood up and cracked his knuckles, smirking slyly. "What's the matter, Marco Diaz... Not prepared for a fight?" He taunted as he walked up to him. Marco stood up and pushed the chair away, agitated by Tom's cocky attitude.

"... Fine. What's the rules?" He demanded as he began to do some stretches.

"Well, first of all... No magic or special powers, obviously."

Marco nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘Mhmm…’ as he worked the muscles in his arms.

"So that means I'll be holding back... a lot..." He shrugged and Marco rolled his eyes. "You, on the other hand... Go all out. Don't hold back."

He lifted an eyebrow as he massaged his palms."...You sure?"

"Yeah. I can handle it." Tom bragged. "Hell, I'll even let you have the first hit!" He smiled.

Marco snorted, amused. "Alright, then... If you say so." He said as he got into his fighting stance. Tom on the other hand was just standing there, non-threateningly, with his hands resting on his hips.

"Well...?" Tom asked, impatient.

Marco looked at him reluctantly and lowered his fists. "Tom... Are you even gonna guard? At -all-? I mean... I'm kinda worried I might -actually- hurt you or something..."

Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in disbelief. "Really, Marco? You're worried about hurting me? Please. I'm the prince of the underworld. Trust me, I think I can handle a punch or two from a mortal."

Marco squinted at Tom before returning back into his signature fighting stance. Tom stood there, his arms still resting at his sides. Marco lifted his fist and prepared to deliver the first hit. Instead of tensing up, Tom only breathed out and closed his eyes. Marco glanced to his readied fist and then back to Tom.

"Alright Tom, here it comes..." He said as he began to reel back.

"Marco, you don't warn an enemy before you attack them." He rolled his eyes under his eyelids as he scolded him. "Ever heard of the element of surpri-"

-WHACK-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like somethings a little broken... Uh oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes some smut.

"...MARCO?! What the HECK did you do to him?!"

"I-I told you Star! He said he wanted to fight me and he wanted me to have the first hit...!"

"So you punched him in the FACE?! Do you know how sensitive he is about his FACE?"

"I- I didn't know! I-"

"-Uh... Uhg... God..."

Star and Marco's worried bantering was interrupted by a pained groan from the ground.

"Tom...? Tom!" Star quickly rushed and knelt down to him, trying to see his face behind the hand holding it. Marco stood a little further back from the two.

He squinted his eyes open slightly, peering at her beyond the hand clenching his face. "Star..?" He slowly sat himself up and rubbed his nose, smearing a dark magenta liquid across his face. Stars eyes widened and her mouth went agape at the sight of his blood.

She cupped both her hands to the sides of his face. "Oh my god... Tom, your nose..." She moved his head here and there to inspect the wounded cartilage. In the background, Marco shifted uncomfortably in place.

Tom hissed and Star let go, worried she may have been hurting him more. He lifted his hand, squinting at the bright ruby smear that painted it. "Oh..." He rubbed a bit of the blood between his fingers, sticking together slightly as it started to dry. Star grimaced at the sight.

"We need to clean this up… Can you stand? ...You can stand, right?" She asked anxiously as she grabbed his bloody hand and lifted it, urging him to get up off of the floor.

Slowly but surely, he began to stand up. "Yeah, my legs are fine... It's just my face that's a little broken... Haha." He laughed to himself, still a little dazed. Star was holding his arm and supporting his weight, even though he didn't actually need it.

"C'mon, let's go wash your face..." She sighed and tugged his arm, guiding him towards the bathroom.

"Star. It's fine. I can take care of myself." He pulled his arm gently out of her grasp, reassuring her that he'd be fine by himself. "Thank you for the concern, though." He insisted and smiled, hoping to ease her worry. Star sighed and nodded, smiling a little in return. Tom parted ways with her and entered his bathroom, closing the door behind him. Star looked back towards the silent Marco.

\---

Tom stood in front of the mirror, looking at the damage Marco inflicted to his face. He held his hand back up to his face and brushed his fingers across the ridge of his nose, flinching at the touch. 'Yep... That's definitely broken... Fuck.'

"Damn, Marco..." He hissed, taking his hand away from his face to turn on the sink and began rinsing them off. He leaned down and gathered some of the cold water into his hands, bringing it to his face. The icy water touched his nose and he cringed at the pain as he washed the blood away. He reflexively reached for a towel and dried his face, the pressure causing blood to drip out over his lip. His tongue slipped out, instinctively seeking to clean his wound. He opened up the medicine cabinet and grabbed a few cotton balls, stuffing some of them in his pocket and tearing another in half, sticking each half up his nose before heading out the door. 

As Tom stepped out, Star rushed back up to him and inspected his face again, despite him insisting that he was fine. Tom explained to them both that it wasn't Marco's fault and that he would be okay.They had more questions as to why he brought up fighting to solve their differences and as to why he didn't even guard himself... at all. He didn't answer them and just urged them to leave, saying he needed some time to himself to think. They didn't pressure him and decided to let him be, leaving through the portal once more.

\---

After Tom was confident they wouldn't be returning anytime soon, he sealed his room back up with a chant, preventing him from any more surprise visits. After the "fight" and cleaning up the rest of his room, his fiery temper had cooled. He flopped down on his bed and checked the time... 7:39 Pm... He sighed. ‘Is it too early to go to bed yet...?' He thought as he rubbed his eyes, staring blankly at the clock. 'I'm not even tired...' He gently touched his healing nose, the pain a bit more dull than before. Getting back up out of bed, Tom made his way back to the bathroom mirror once again. As he inspected his discolored nose, he carefully pulled out the bloody cotton from his nostrils and tossed them into the nearby trash can. Noticing his very disheveled-looking hair, he decided on taking a quick shower to clean up.

Soon enough, microscopic droplets of moisture began to gather on the walls as he started the faucet, adjusting the water temperature to his preference. After it was just right, he stepped in and let the hot water envelop his body, it seemingly washing away his problems. Man, he loved this feeling. He -needed- this. Closing his eyes and letting the water run over his head and face, he sighed. His mind and body wandered into relaxation, blanketing him with warmth. 'I don't wanna leave...' He thought to himself, comforted by the sensation. But he knew this couldn't last forever, so he decided to actually begin washing himself. He scrubbed his face clear of sweat and oils and dried off the excess water from around his eyes with a nearby towel. But as he reached for the shampoo, he noticed a drop of red fall onto the shower floor... And then another... And another.

'Oh...' He reached for his nose and tried to wash it away, but he only ended up making it leak even more. 'The humidity must have loosened up the dried blood...' He thought as he gripped the bridge of his nose, but quickly regretting it as it started to ache again from the pressure. "Ah! Shit-!!" He hissed out loud, parting his lips and gritting his teeth in pain. His forehead ached in reply to the bleeding and the heat of the water started to make him feel lightheaded. His stomach began to twist so he leaned against the shower wall and lowered the temperature a few degrees, hoping to settle it down. But instead, the twisting in his stomach turned into warmth... And the ache of his head turned into a sickly sweet rush of adrenaline. His breath caught in his throat as his dick suddenly twitched awake. He exhaled and bit his bloody lip, rubbing his hand in circles gently down his torso... Then to his abdomen... His happy trail... Until eventually...

"Hhm...~" He moaned quietly as his fingers ghosted over his member, teasing himself. He pressed a little firmer and rubbed it as if he were just washing, his dick hardening a little more with each pass of his hand. He gripped it loosely and slid his thumb over the head, pulling back the small bit of skin there and squeezed lightly... His hips reflexively bucked into his hand as his body ached for more friction. Tired of waiting, Tom finally wrapped his fingers around himself and roughly stroked himself a few times. His breathing became heavier and he groaned, leaning himself forward in the shower as the lukewarm water cascaded over his back. He stopped and rested his forehead on his forearm, letting his free hand take over. His non-dominant hand wasn't as skilled so he made up for it by moving his hips instead. Soon enough, wet sounds began to echo off the walls as he slid his dick in and out of his water-slicked palm, his panting getting louder and his movements getting rougher.

Wet noises and moans echoed throughout the bathroom as he fucked into his loose grip, his legs shaking at how close he was getting to release... "Hhn... Ah..." He picked up his pace, gripping his toes and fingers into the linoleum wall and floor. "Oh... Fuck!" He cursed aloud as his abdomen tightened and his hand squeezed harder. Quickly pulling his hips back, he jolted forward in three quick successions. Once, twice and...

"-Ah! Mmn! Oohmygod, yesss...!" Tom groaned animalistically as hips stuttered and jerked, shaking as he shot his load across the polished tile wall and flooring. Soon enough, a second wave pleasure washed over him and he grunted loudly as he came even more, this time leaving a thick streak of cum on the temperature dials. One final spurt spilled messily into his palm, dripping onto the tile beneath him and washing down the drain. He shivers and slides his cum-slick fingers over the base of his dick and squeezes, milking the last few drops from his tip. Deep magenta blood dripped from his broken nose and over his mouth. Watching the crimson drip and spatter below him, he licked his lips and smiled.


End file.
